


Death Becomes Me

by evila_elf



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:19:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evila_elf/pseuds/evila_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever wonder what it would be like to wake up dead? Jensen doesn’t have to wonder. He is finding his own death very inconvenient.  Death fic with a twist</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Becomes Me

CHAPTER 1

Jensen first became aware of the noise. A loud and annoying jumble of sounds. Voices, he realized. He opened his eyes. Frowned. White. Everything was white. The sort of white you get when you close your eyes and stare up at the sun. He tried to take a step back, to escape the noise, the wail of voices, and that was when he realized he was standing. He woke up standing. “What the fuck?”

“You’ll get used to it,” a young female voice to his right said, voice sounding sad.

Jensen turned, but only met more white. It was unsettling. Even more unsettling when he looked down at his feet. Or where his feet should have been. White. Pure bleached white. He tried to remember what he had eaten before he went to bed, planning to swear it off if this was the result. He covered his ears, but the crying voices never subsided. He pressed harder, desperate to block them out as their goal seemed to be to drive him insane.

A laugh next to him, crystal clear even though he was trying to stuff his palms in his ears.

“What the hell’s so funny? And where am I?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No,” he said flatly.

“You died.”

***

And then Jensen woke up. Or at least he was _supposed_ to wake up. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled. He really didn’t. Maybe all he needed to do was humor his subconscious for a little longer. The noise seemed to crescendo and he cringed. “Does death come with a mute button?”

Soft laughter.

“Where are you?”

“Where are _you_?” the voice repeated back at him.

“Come on, this isn’t funny.” It was, in fact, terrifying. 

He thought he caught a flash of color and turned.

“What’s your name?” he asked, focusing on the dull yellow light no bigger than a golf ball. It was strange, but strange things happen all the time in dreams, right? Right?

“Abby.”

The color brightened slightly when she ‘spoke’ her name. Can you speak without a mouth?

“Yours is green, by the way,” she continued.

“I’m dead.” Jensen tried the words on for size. They left an odd feeling in him. He suddenly wanted to cry, to join the wailing voices that seemed locked in his head, but also felt calmer than he had in his...life... “What now?”

“What do you want?”

 _To not be dead._ He hadn’t spoken the words aloud, but Abby giggled, her yellow rippling with tinges of orange.

“Okay, how ‘bout an explanation, then?” Spoken out loud, or to himself. Was there really a difference any more? “This doesn’t look like Heaven, and I’m positive that it isn’t warm enough to be Hell.” In fact, it wasn’t really much of anything. He wasn’t warm or cold or tired or angry or sad. He _wanted_ to scream and cry and punch something, but that’s all they were: wants without the emotion behind them. He felt suffocated in a blanket of calm, not able to panic and thrash free of this odd prison.

Finally the light, Abby, seemed to take pity on him. She moved closer, then closer still, until the glow of her yellow seemed to wash over him. The white around him exploded into a shock of vivid colors, filling his senses and blocking the noise from his ears. Then he realized the colors for what they were--grass, trees. A yard. A swing set. After all the endless white, everything seemed brighter, like the contrast had been turned way up. Surreal and unreal and overwhelming. Then he saw it, a young girl, barely in her teens, sprawled out on the grass, a book in front of her, opened, pages flopping in the breeze, held open by a pair of fingers. “That was me.”

Jensen was surprised. It hadn’t yet occurred to him that Abby’s voice had once been a person. The scene played on.

“Abby!” 

The girl lifted her head, then quickly stood, brushing the grass from her pink dress.

“Abby!”

“Coming, Mother!” 

He noticed the vehicles in behind her as she picked up her book. The cars were all at least 50 years old. “When was this?” he whispered, afraid that the images could be startled away from him, leaving him surrounded by sterile white again.

“1968. I was fifteen,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

Jensen stared at the closed front door of Abby’s home. 

“I’m still fifteen.”

“What....happened?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I got sick. Real sick. I remember a lot of doctors, but in the end, there was nothing they could do.”

“You’ve been here for fifty years?”

“I guess. Time holds no meaning here.”

Jensen wondered how he had died. But then the images started to fade, and the noise returned with a vengeance, scattering his thoughts. “Damn it,” he swore. “Can’t you hear that?”

“You must have a lot of people who miss you.”

“Is that what that racket is?” He was only slightly relieved to know the source. Then he realized the wistfulness in her voice. “Don’t you?”

“It’s been fifty years. People forget. People die.”

“What’s the point in all of this?” He made a sweeping gesture with his green glow, too agitated to notice how cool it looked.

“What is the point of living?” Abby countered.

Jensen had no answer. “So,” he finally said, “what do you do around here?” He expected some stupid answer like ‘Do? Doing things have no meaning here.’

“We watch people.” Her color brightened at this topic.

“What? Like guardian angels and shit?”

“Not exactly. We can’t interfere.”

“Guardian angels sans guarding. Check. How do I do that?”

“We can only watch people who are thinking about us.”

“Then you...”

“I can relive my memories. Or,” suddenly her voice seemed shy, “I can watch through you.”

“And here I thought you were just being nice to me without an ulterior motive.”

“I’m sorry.” Her color started to fade and drift away from him.

“Wait, I’m not mad at you,” he called after her retreating yellow. “Don’t leave. You can look all you want. You just have to show me _how._ ”

Her color brightened like the sun and Jensen’s brightened as well. 

_This must be what happiness feels like._

***

Jensen groaned, frustrated.

“Try again.”

He closed his mind to the whiteness, opened his ears to the noise. He could feel Abby, a warm presence in his head. 

“So many voices.”

“Yeah. I’m an actor.” His concentration faltered when he realized he had spoken in the present tense.

“Ah,” she said, like his profession explained a lot. “Now focus.” 

It was like trying to pick up a radio station that never seemed to come in quite clear, the other voices providing steady interference. Jensen struggled to find the one voice, to lock on the sound, even though it hurt him to hear the familiar voice in so much pain. Pain that he caused. By dying. Somehow.

Just as he was about ready to ask Abby if she knew what had happened to him, he felt the voice lock into place and, one by one, the other voices started to fall away. Jensen tried to picture a place, like Abby had shown him how to close to the destination of the voice he sought. In time, he could improve his accuracy.

Cold air on his face and he opened his eyes with a start. Nighttime. The shock of black instead of endless white startled him. Trees. Houses. Stars overhead. Grass under his feet. Feet! He took a moment to wiggle his toes in the grass, then he spun around and there was Abby, just as she had looked in her flashback.

And he had a body, too! Clothed except for his feet, in blue jeans and a plain white shirt. Jensen was staring at his hands when Abby nudged him, but when he turned to look at her, she stood half a dozen feet away. “Jensen,” she said softly, prodding with her voice this time.

“Right. This way.” His voice shook and his whole body seemed to quiver with excitement, fear, and a touch of insanity. They headed toward a house, the only one in sight, and walked up the three stairs leading to the porch. Jensen stopped at the door. “Can I---how do I?” He motioned at the door, hand poised as if to knock.

“Just walk.” She gave him a little push.

Jensen suddenly found himself in the middle of the door. Looking to his right he could see inside, his left he could see Abby, still on the porch, smirking at him. He pulled the rest of the way inside, blinking with surprise. He touched his nose, still able to feel the cold stripe of the inside of the door pressed down his face. “Dude,” he breathed.

Abby was looking all over at her surroundings, pivoting on her feet. “Wow,” she said, voice just as mystified as Jensen’s had been. “Did you live here?”

“I share...shared...it with a coworker.”

“What’s his name?”

Jensen was taken a little aback by her guess that he shared it with another guy, feeling a slight dig to his masculinity, but then he remembered the era she was born. Sharing with a girl would have been more of a taboo back then. Funny how things change. “Jared,” he answered. 

Jensen took a few steps, his feet silent on the hardwood flooring. The soft glow of a nightlight could be seen coming from the kitchen. Jensen had demanded they have one since he could always hear Jared’s nightly routine of fumbling around in the kitchen. Jensen turned to go into his bedroom, hand automatically reaching for the switch but finding nothing there as his hand passed over the switch and into the wall. “Damn,” he swore, shaking away the cold feeling from his fingers. But then he looked around and his eyes rapidly adjusted to the lack of light. “Better than night vision goggles.”

“You’re stalling.” Abby didn’t look at him as she spoke, instead studying the photos on Jensen’s dresser. “Is Jared in one of these?”

“Look for the big goofy grin.” Jensen came up behind her, looking over her shoulder.

“He’s cute.” She leaned forward to stare more intently at the picture.

Jensen had to bite his lip to keep from agreeing. He had loved Jared for a long time. But now...now he would never get to tell him. Never get to kiss him for the first time, feel the large hands on his skin, mouth everywhere...at least he still had his fantasies. He focused on the picture, trying to distract his mind from the hot and heavy scene running through it, unsure if he could find a way to relieve the pressure in his balls later or not.

The photo had been taken at the end of season 3 during the wrap party. Both were slightly wasted but trying their best not to look it, leaning on each other to keep from falling over.

Jensen turned away from the photos. He knew all of them by heart. Would he actually get to see Jared tonight? One need replaced another. His hands felt clammy and he shoved them into his pockets. It felt weird to be nervous.

As if sensing his thoughts, Abby said, “You are more in tune with your former emotions when you are as your former self.”

“Great. I’m friends with a fortune cookie.” He smiled to show Abby he was joking, then took a deep breath. “He’s upstairs.”

The stairs made no sound. Not even the one that normally creaked loud enough to wake the.... _Not going there_ , Jensen thought.

The door into Jared’s bedroom stood slightly ajar, and Jensen was relieved to not have to go through it. The cold feeling of passing through something creeped him out. Moonlight shone through the window, bathing everything in a soft light. There, in a tangle of sheets and blankets in the center of the bed, lay Jared. Next to him sprawled Harley, one of his two large dogs, muzzle resting on his paws, facing Jared’s covered feet. Sadie, Jared’s other dog, was barely visible on the floor on the bed’s other side.

Jensen was about to take a step closer, when Harley raised his head and his ears and looked straight at him. He gave a whining ‘woof’, which got Sadie’s attention. She barked as she scrambled to her feet to see what the fuss was about.

“Can they see me?” Jensen backed up.

The body on the bed stirred as Harley stood and continued whining. “What the hell has gotten into you two?” Jared sat up, pushing for Harley to get off the bed. Then he looked to see what Harley was barking at.

“Oh my God,” Jensen breathed as Jared met his eyes from across the room.

“Jen?”

The white that swallowed him up blinded him and stole his breath away. “Shit! Oh my God!” He frantically looked around until he saw the yellow glow of Abby. “I need to go back. He saw me!”

“But that’s impossible.” Abby’s voice sounded shocked.

Jensen tried to calm down and focus himself inward, trying to latch onto the single screaming voice of Jared. He could hear it calling his name, but then something grabbed onto him, pulling him away. “Let me go back!” Jensen tried to pull free of Abby as her glow surrounded him.

“I don’t think that would be wise--” 

“Let go!”

“You’ll burn yourself out!”

Jensen stopped struggling. “What?”

“It’s hard to explain...”

“So explain.”

“We get our energy from the sun, that is why we waited for nightfall, so my energy was fully charged to help you.”

“You mean I’m like a rechargeable battery?” Jensen groaned.

“What’s a rechargeable battery?”

Jensen was taken aback. “It-it’s a battery that you plug into electricity for a few hours, then you can use it again.”

“Something like that,” Abby said after a pause. “Burning out is bad.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound _good._ ” He tried to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

“It isn’t. You can’t recharge in the other place, and if you burn out while over there...it is like dying all over again. You have connections into this place now. We all feel it when it happens.” Her yellow trembled in a shiver.

“So, what? I can only be over there for a few minutes?”

“You’ll get stronger.”

***

Being dead sucked.

“How am I gonna know when it’s night again?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“Well, how do _you_ know?”

Abby brightened. “I just do.”

Jensen grumbled.

“Come, I want to introduce you to some friends.”

As she turned, Jensen thought he caught a shimmer of golden hair, a few shades darker than her yellow sphere.

“Wait, I think I can see you.”

Abby turned and Jensen could definitely see her smile. “See? You’re getting stronger already.” 

 

CHAPTER 2

At first, he could only make out faces, the edges lost in a colored glow, but then the spheres started elongating until he could see bodies, arms, hands, legs. He could also start to see his own hands and feet, which was a relief. They passed by many people as Abby searched out her friends. All of them had a different colored halo of light surrounding them, hiding their details unless he stood close enough. It reminded him of surreal dreams he’d had as a child.

“These are all of the newer people,” she said softly, weaving through the crowd.

“Don’t they have someone? Like you to help them out?”

“There are a lot of people who die every day,” was all that she said.

The crowds thinned the further they walked until there wasn’t a soul around. Ahead, the white seemed to shimmer as they drew closer and Jensen could feel his skin tingle with energy. He paused and watched as Abby passed through it, disappearing from his sight. Cautiously, he followed. Instead of the cold feel he had begun to associate with walls, this one tickled as it washed over him. Then he stopped and stared. To his right were two people sitting at a little two seat table eating ice cream and laughing. A picture of John Wayne hung suspended next to them, attached to thin air, for there was no wall to support it. Not more than 10 feet away from them was a grassy field where a game of tag was taking place. A pair of girls lounged on recliners surrounded by an endless wall of books only inches away from the grass.

Abby grabbed onto Jensen’s arm and tugged him toward the grass, for once acting like the young girl that she was. Jensen allowed her to lead, still overwhelmed by his surroundings. As soon as they crossed the threshold into the grass, it was like stepping into a different world. All blue sky and birdsong and drying grass. Then he felt a pull downward as Abby sat in front of a couple and he couldn’t help but follow or fall on his face.

“Jensen, meet Sandra and Brent Miller.”

Jensen, still dazed, reached his hand out and shook the hands of the middle aged couple. “Jensen Ackles.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw a squirrel. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, forcing his attention back to the man and woman in front of him.

“First day, son?” the man asked

Jensen nodded with a relieved smile.

“Well, get settled and help yourself.” Sandra nodded toward the picnic basket.

Jensen ignored the offer and looked to Abby for help.

“Go on and we’ll explain everything to you.”

Jensen found a perfect slice of blueberry pie in the basket, his favorite, and it tasted so good that he forgot that he was having a picnic with a bunch of dead people. Until he realized he was licking the fork clean. He looked up to find three amused people watching him. “That pie wasn’t real, was it?”

“But it tasted good, didn’t it?”

Jensen shared a grin with Brent. “Yeah,” he agreed.

“These two are a success story,” Abby said, getting back to business. “They found each other after seven years apart.”

“Yeah.” Sandra looked over at Brent and smiled. “I passed first. Kept tabs on Brent until he passed seven years later. Some people lose touch and then can never find each other.”

“This must really be some big place then?”

Abby lay back in the grass, arms under her head. “Jensen, think of how big the universe is.”

Jensen didn’t want to think about it. It made him feel uncomfortable. He thanked the Millers for the pie and stood. Abby followed behind him as he walked away.

The grass was seamlessly joined, but he could feel a difference as he stepped into a new...bubble, for lack of a better word. The air was cooler with a touch of wind that carried the laughter from a children’s softball game. He crossed his arms and leaned up against a tree.

Abby approached him cautiously, as if she were afraid he would walk off again. “Was it something I said?”

Jensen ignored her question. “Have you found anyone yet?”

Abby seemed surprised by the question. “No. My mamma was the only one I was close to. She stopped remembering me over 35 years ago.”

“How can a mother just forget her child?”

“She didn’t forget about me,” Abby said defensively. “She just stopped thinking about me all the time. We can only be with people who are constantly thinking of us. But I got to watch over her for 15 years. A lot longer than most people get.”

“Did she die?”

Abby shrugged. “We don’t get told when people die. I want to imagine that she’s still alive and that that’s the reason why I can’t find her.” She sat down and plucked out a blade of grass, watching as a new blade grew to fill its place. She shrugged again, silent.

Jensen felt bad. He plopped down on the ground next to her, but didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. Instead, he focused on his arm and the glow that surrounded it. When he moved his arm fast enough, it looked like it was on fire, the green stretching and waving in the breeze.

“You look silly.”

Jensen just grinned.

***

They stayed there in companionable silence until the grass slowly faded out from underneath them, their world once again bleached with white. Jensen sat up from where he had been lying on his back, watching thistle seeds drift by overhead.. All around him the other ‘bubbles’ dissolved until there was literally nothing there but the people who had created them. “What’s going on?” he asked Abby, wondering why she seemed so calm.

“You asked me how I knew when it was night time. Well, now you know my secret.” Abby made a generalized gesture.

“Why do they stop at night?”

“Creating your own space, even just a tiny one, is a lot of work. Easier during the day.”

“Does this mean I can see him again?”

Abby rolled her eyes.

“Well?”

“I don’t think it is a good idea.”

“So you’ve said. Look, I don’t really need your permission, but I would like to have you spotting me in case things take a bad turn.”

“Fine, but I am doing it under protest.”

“Duly noted. And thanks,” he added sincerely.

***

Jared’s voice was easier to find the second time. Jensen swiftly followed it, letting it pull him closer and closer until there he was, in the same spot as the night before. He barely paid the scenery any mind, or Abby as she hurried to catch up with his long strides to his house.

“Calm down or you might lose the link,” Abby warned as they paused at the front door.

“I am calm.” Jensen was anything but. He took a few deep breaths before quickly moving through the door. The feeling of the door seemed to cling to him, as if reluctant to let him go of its dead grasp. “Is this the same night as ours?” If night had just begun, wouldn’t it be dusk?

“Yes. We haven’t been able to exactly tell, but our days last about half as long. It should be around midnight here.”

Things just kept getting stranger the more he found out. “Do you think he’ll be able to see me this time?”

“Are you sure he saw you before?”

“Did you miss the part where he looked right at me and said my name? And don’t forget the dogs barking.”

“Some say dogs can sense things...”

“You just don’t want to believe it.” Hell, even _he_ was doubtful. The bedroom door was ajar again and Jensen squeaked past it, doing a sideways limbo to keep from touching it. Once inside, he was unsure what to do. Both the dogs were on the floor this time, snoring, and Jensen didn’t think they would be waking up any time soon to alert Jared to his presence.

Abby stayed back, just inside the room, as Jensen approached the bed. He felt his vision waver and forced his racing heartbeat to calm down. He looked back at Abby and she nodded at him, letting him know he was in no danger for the moment.

Once again Jared was tangled up in his sheets, one arm tucked under his pillow and the other fisted in his comforter. Up close he looked horrible: Dark bags under his eyes, lips chapped and looking like he had been biting them recently.

Jensen wanted to grab him, shake him awake and tell him that he was alright, but what would it feel like if his hands passed through Jared? Would it feel cold and dead like the door? Jensen didn’t want to find out. He glanced once more at Abby before taking a deep breath. “Jared?” he said, voice so soft he could barely hear it himself. He tried again, louder this time.

Jared groaned like he was fighting consciousness. 

“Jay, come on buddy, wake up. It’s Jensen.”

As soon as Jensen mentioned his name, Jared’s eyes snapped open, bloodshot and red rimmed. He fumbled for the switch on his lamp, almost knocking the thing over because his hands shook.

Their eyes locked, just like they had before Jensen had been yanked away.

Jensen felt like he was dealing with a wild animal and any wrong move could send it running for cover. “Didja miss me?” He realized it wasn’t the best thing to say when Jared’s face crumpled, eyes watering. 

Jared turned away, burying his face in his pillows. 

“Jared? Come on, man, it’s me.” Jensen took a step closer to the bed, not sure what to do. He didn’t deal well when people cried. He wanted to reach out and slap Jared, tell him to stop being a pussy. But even if he could touch, that seemed like a bad idea. 

“Not real. Not real.” Jared said the words over and over again, like a mantra, muffled by the pillow.

 _Was he real?_ Jensen couldn’t really argue.

“Why did you have to leave me, you asshole?”

Jensen frowned, crossing his arms and trying to get his legs to stop shaking. “Right, _I_ chose to off myself.” 

The dogs were now awake, taking notice of their master’s discomfort, whining and putting their paws up on the bed.

“Why’d you do it?” Jared asked again.

Suddenly, Jensen couldn’t breathe. His legs felt weak and he dropped to his knees, eyes snapping shut. How could a dead guy stop breathing? Then Abby was right beside him. 

“Let go!” Abby shook him, then slapped him sharply across the face.

When Jensen opened his eyes again, the bedroom had disappeared and he was once again in the ‘white room,’ as he decided to call it. And he could breathe.

Abby’s eyes were wide, her mouth pinched in a thin line.

“What the hell just happened?”

“You almost burned out!”

Jensen tried to take a step and fell, limbs feeling like they were made out of jelly. 

“You’ll be like that until sunrise. Serves you right.”

“Give a newbie a break, will ya? How was I supposed to know?”

“Weakness? Shortness of breath?”

“But I always feel like that when I’m upset. Or hearing my best friend accuse me of dying on purpose!” He tried to shout the last sentence, but only a gruff whisper came out. "When the hell’s sunrise?" He hated the weak feeling, doing all he could to keep his head from lolling to the side. 

"I don’t know," Abby said, unhelpfully.

Screw it. Jensen flopped over onto his back, trying to trick himself into believing that he was doing it out of his own free will.

"Be right back." 

Abby ran off before Jensen could think of trying to stop her.

Soon she returned, the Millers in tow.

"You're going to be trouble, aren't you?" Brent said, not unkindly, crouching down at Jensen's side. 

"Here." Sandra knelt next to her husband, Abby joining on his other side. All three of them clasped hands, Sandra's free hand pressing palm down against the ground and Abby's against Jensen's chest.

Jensen felt a strange sensation under his back and warmth under Abby's hand. He looked to his side, away from the trio, and saw grass shoots springing up around him and under him. "What are you doing?" His voice was stronger now.

Sandra, Brent, and Abby dropped hands, Abby's lingering a little over Jensen before sitting back and smiling.

Jensen now lay in a small field of grass and he felt a hundred times stronger than he had, which wasn't saying much since he could barely hold his head up before. "Dude, what did you guys do?"

"It's harder to create places during the nightfall, but it can be done," Brent explained.

"And I gave you some of my energy." Abby's words slurred slightly and she sounded like a kid ready for bedtime but resisting.

"You didn't have to do that." Jensen felt bad.

"No worries. I can recharge. Like a battery." She smiled, pleased at her joke.

***

Jensen relaxed to the soft grass and soft voices that surrounded him and let himself drift in a kind of half-sleep reserved for lounging in the shade on sunny days. He didn't care that he wasn't a part of the conversation, or even if he _was_ the conversation. 

Sometime later, a strange tingling vibrated up him, gentle, like a soft hum against his skin. He opened his eyes to find Abby smiling at him.

"The sun’s rising."

Jensen looked around and saw the grass-line lengthening as the Millers added the sun's energy to their own. More people started showing up, ‘growing’ spots for themselves until Jensen could barely see more than a crack of white to indicate where one place ended and the other began. He wondered if maybe one day he would be able to do that, create a little world just for himself...But no. He couldn't imagine a world without Jared in it. Since Jared couldn't come to him, he would save up all of his energy so he could keep visiting Jared and work on getting stronger so he would be able to stay longer.

"Would you like some pie?" Brent asked, producing a picnic basket.

Jensen sat up slowly. He still felt weak, but better. "Pie sounds wonderful."

 

CHAPTER 3

Jensen was reluctant, but eventually he told the Millers about his two visits with Jared and how the man had freaked out. Blamed him for dying. "And that's the funny thing," Jensen concluded, "I don't know how I died. But I do know that I would never think of offing myself."

A couple more people had stopped by to listen to his tale, shocked that he had been seen by someone from ‘The Old World’. Most had dismissed him and left again, shaking their heads at the ‘new guy’.

"I can hear him." He gestured to his head with a wave of his finger. For the most part, he could tune out the other voices. But not Jared's. "I'm gonna try to talk to him again tonight, but I don't know what to say."

Katrina patted his leg. She was one of the few who had stayed. She looked to be in her 30s, a soft cherry red glow barely visible surrounded her, her long yellow curls making it tint orange. She had wandered over when she had heard Jensen's exclamations of 'He saw me!' and had to see what had happened. No one had minded when she stayed. "Apologize to him," she advised.

"For what?"

"If he blames you for dying, say you're sorry."

Jensen played with his fork, tapping it against the empty plate. "Is there any way I can find out what happened to me?"

Abby said, "You're not strong enough to be able to look into the past. Yet. Maybe you can ask Jared what happened?"

"I really don't think that would be a good idea." But inside, Jensen knew that might be the only way he would get some quick answers.

***

This time, Jensen found the door to Jared's bedroom closed. He groaned, not happy about having to go through two doors in one night. Abby found his annoyance hilarious. "Doesn't it feel weird to you?"

Abby just shrugged and walked through the door.

Jensen glared as her arm reappeared, beckoning him with a crooked finger to join her. Just as he was taking a deep breath, Abby's hand grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him through to the other side. He stumbled and caught himself before he fell on his ass, then looked over at the bed to see Jared watching with wide eyes, back against the bed's backboard, book resting against his triangled legs. 

"God damn it." Jared sounded like he was in pain. He let go of his book and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

"You're awake this time." Jensen stated the obvious.

"Apparently not." Jared didn't look at him, keeping his eyes buried behind his hands. "Now go away."

"No. I want to talk to you."

"Fine, but I ain't listening." Jared lifted the covers to lie down, still not looking in Jensen's direction.

"Jared--"

"Go. Away!" As an ending exclamation, Jared hurled the book.

Jensen braced for impact, too shocked to attempt to move. The book sailed through him, flapping pages tickling against his spine, before smacking against the wall and falling with a dull thud on the carpeting. "Dude, don't you ever throw something at me again or I am going to haunt your ass for the rest of your life!" He shuddered, still feeling where the book had violated him.

Jared had taken up his deer-in-the-headlights look again, eyes darting between Jensen and the poor abused book on the floor. "Why are you doing this to me, man?"

"I miss you. And...I'm sorry," he added, remembering what Katrina had told him.

Jared scoffed. "Too fucking late for that."

"Hey," Jensen raised his hands, trying to calm Jared, and himself, down. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"You didn't?" Jared fully sat up, turning to glare. "So the gun just happened to slip?"

"Gun? What the hell are you talking about?"

Jared's eyes watered, nose crinkling, and teeth biting at his lower lip. "Go haunt someone else."

Jensen felt his concentration slip and closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself, overcome with his own emotions. "Jared, you have to believe me." He tried his damnedest not to beg.

"What's my favorite color?"

"Dude, are you insane? How is this supposed to prove I am not a figment of your imagination?"

Jared shrugged, looking away.

"Fine. Pink."

Jared jerked his head back to look at Jensen. 

"Of _course_ your subconscious is going to answer truthfully. _Me_ on the other hand..." Jensen felt the now-familiar feeling run through him. "Shit. I gotta go."

"What?"

"I'll be back tomorrow, I promise. And Jared? Please leave the door open for me?"

***

When Jensen opened his eyes, Katrina and the Millers stood nearby, eagerly waiting to find out what had happened. Jensen took a deep breath. "I think he believed me," he said while breathing out. He felt a little queasy, but this time it was like he was recovering from the flu, not dying from it.

"Did he say what happened?" Katrina asked.

"Something about a gun...I think he thinks I killed myself."

"Why would you want to do that?" Abby asked. She had watched the exchange from the sidelines, but had just as many questions as the others.

"I didn't."

"You weren't feeling depressed?"

Jensen shook his head so furiously that he almost gave himself whiplash. "Everyone gets down sometimes, but to off myself? No friggin' way!"

"If you don't remember how you died, maybe there's more you're forgetting," Sandra added with a shrug.

Jensen glared at her.

"Just a suggestion." Sandra looked away, a hurt look on her face.

"Sorry. This is just so...frustrating!" He flopped backward and pillowed his arms under his head. He looked forward for morning so all the white surrounding him could be painted and come to life. "Sorry," he repeated. He wished he were strong enough so he could go back and see what had happened. A day? A week? 

"So tell us some about this coworker," Katrina asked.

Jensen didn’t feel like talking about Jared. But once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. He told the small group of how they’d met, at an audition for the same role. The show’s producers had liked them both so much that Jared had been cast as the younger brother and they had quickly became fast friends and a pair of regular pranksters. Everyone was in hysterics when Jensen told of how they both had been pranked with a pair of binoculars and black paint.

Words slowly trickling to a stop and Jensen felt loneliness wash over him, and a pain that he shouldn’t be able to still feel. “God, I miss him.” Not liking the funk he was finding himself in, he tried to change the subject: “So what do you all do for fun around here? Besides listening to the wanton wishes of a dead man?”

“Talk and wait for day. Less boring than it sounds like,” Sandra said. “So many of you young people seem to have forgotten the art of conversing.”

“You, on the other hand, nope.” Katrina nudged him playfully.

Jensen matched her over the top grin with one of his own, letting it slip away into a glare, trying to keep the corners of his mouth from quirking upward.

***

Jensen lay back on the soft grass and closed his eyes. He didn’t feel tired, but damn he missed sleeping. He let his mind drift, soothed by the gentle breeze, warm sun and energy flowing into him.

Shrieking and giggling got his attention and he opened his eyes in time to see a young girl, no more than five, jump over him. Then he got a feeling of déjà vu when the same girl jumped over him a second later. A glitch in the Matrix? He sat up. Twins. And they were looping around a tree and charging back toward him for another jump. He laid back down to let them, then sat up at the last second to grab the second girl mid-leap.

The girl yelped with surprise and squirmed in his grasp, barely able to struggle because of all her giggles. Jensen let her down again and she ran off to resume chasing after her sister. “So young,” he commented to Katrina.

She looked up from her daisy chain and he nodded toward the girls. “Yeah. They don’t talk much, so no one knows what their story is.” She plucked another daisy from the grass, another growing to replace it.

Jensen shook his head. “Wow.” He wished he could say more, to vocalize how sad it made him feel...or how sad it was supposed to make him feel, but what could he say? For all he knew, the little girls didn’t even realize that they were dead. If so, then they had it the best out of all of them. No pretending, no yearning for lost friends or loved ones, missing them not because they were dead, but because they were still alive. “What’s _your_ story?” he asked her.

Katrina seemed surprised. “Mine is hardly interesting.”

“Try me.”

She huffed out a small laugh. “What year is this?”

“2010.”

“It happened 44 years ago, as I was giving birth to my 2nd child. My husband named her after me. Trina.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been dead longer than I’d been alive.” She shrugged away his concern.

Dead longer than alive. The thought made Jensen ache in ways he didn’t think he still could. How could he manage that long without driving himself crazy?

Sandra and Brent settled down next to him and Jensen blinked his attention back to the present. They motioned Katrina and Abby to scoot closer. Sandra began by clearing her throat. “How badly do you want to see how you died?”

Jensen, shocked speechless, had to make several attempts to talk before he was able to ask, “But I thought I wasn’t strong enough.”

“You aren’t.” Abby’s voice sounded defensive, but curious, and they all looked to the Millers to find out what was up.

“We’ve been asking around,” Sandra continued, “and several people have taken notice. They find it strange, but they’re willing to help you.”

“Strange?”

“It’s unheard of for people to want to revisit their deaths,” Katrina supplied. “Most of us already know what killed us, and the rest don’t care or don’t mind waiting until they can see for themselves. And, like you, we are curious.”

“And how would this helping thing work?”

“Like how we gave you back energy, only on a larger scale,” Brett said kindly, reminding Jensen of a grandfather he’d barely had a chance to know. “That is why you will need more help than just us.”

“Ye--” Jensen had to clear his throat, “yes, that would be awesome! When?”

“Tomorrow, halfway between night and sunrise would be best. They are going to take it easy today and tonight so their energy is good and they can spend the latter half of the day regaining it.”

Abby turned her attention to Jensen. “You won’t be able to see Jared tonight.”

Jensen wanted to argue, or at least beg a little, but he knew it would be pointless. “Okay,” he finally said, agreeing to her tiny demand.

 

CHAPTER 4

After a torturous night of wandering around trying to burn off a nervous energy he couldn’t feel, it was time to meet the little group of people who would help him: 

First was Albert, a heavy guy who insisted on giving him a hug. Apparently, The Millers had told him so much about Jensen that he acted as if they were old drinking buddies. Then Alicia, young, shy and bright-eyed in her eagerness to help. Last, Benji, who bore an odd resemblance to the scruffy dog of the same name.

“So you’re the guy who wants to know how he died.” Benji smiled, showing off perfect white teeth in a California-tanned face.

“Yep, I’m the guy,” he said with a little reluctance, not sure if it was something he wanted to be admitting to or not.

“Is it true that you can speak to alive people?” Alicia asked in awe.

Jensen nodded. “Scared my friend half to death.” He stumbled over the last word, about to apologize, but no one seemed to care. 

They gathered into a circle, Abby and Benji flanking Jensen. “So does this mean you’re all going to see what I see?”

Abby nodded.

“I have no idea what you’re going to see.” He tried to make eye contact with each one of them as he spoke. “Jared seems to think I killed myself, so this could get messy.” He felt Benji squeeze his hand in silent support as they all began to make a connection.

As soon as Abby’s hand clasped with his, closing the circle, he felt a rush of energy run through him, like too many power drinks and too little sleep.

“Close your eyes,” Abby instructed. “What is the last thing you can remember?” she coached him

What was the last think he could remember? When filming, days seemed to blur together. Jensen tried to think of anything significant. “I know I was in Canada, filming.” He frowned, eyes still shut, trying to visualize the episode, the scene, then everything after it. “We had just finished and I was going back to my trailer...” Suddenly, he could see himself, walking, the stumble every few steps he did when he was tired and almost asleep on his feet. The light came from trailers and set lights, signifying a night shoot...

_Jared had already finished filming several hours back. They all had to pick up filming at almost the crack of dawn. In five hours. Not wanting to waste an hour commuting when he could be sleeping, Jensen opted for the crappy couch in his trailer. He had figured Jared would be long gone, asleep in his own bed, which is why the soft glowing light from the trailer next to his surprised him. Like a moth to light, Jensen tapped on the door, trying to be quiet in case Jared had fallen asleep with the light on._

Feeling like a voyeur, Jensen followed himself, sensing the others close by as they did they same. “I don’t remember any of this,” he muttered, seeing himself open the door, peeking in and calling Jared’s name. Realizing the door was closing behind himself, he tried to hurry, but stopped just as the door closed in his face.

“He hates going through doors,” Abby explained to the others, giving him a push.

The shock of the door became drowned out by the cold steel of a card table he stumbled into, pinching him around his thighs like an icy blanket, tissue box on top fluttering against his hip. He swore under his breath and pulled free, glaring at Benji, who was laughing.

Abby nudged him, nodding toward the scene they were ignoring.

Jared had his head in his hands, sitting on the couch. Jensen really wanted to comfort his upset friend, but before he could step forward, his other self did just that.

_Jensen cautiously lowered himself next to Jared. “Hey, what’s wrong?”_

_Jared shook his head, hands still covering his face._

_Jensen grabbed Jared’s wrist, gently tugging one of the large hands down. Ignoring the weak struggle. Jensen had seen Jared cry tons during scenes that required it. But when Jared was crying,_ really _crying, he hated for people to see. Jared tried to turn his face away from Jensen, twisting his body as far as he could on the couch. “Jay, come on, man. I can’t go sleep until you spill.”_

_Jared’s laugh sounded more sob than mirth, but it was something._

_Jensen stood and went for the box of tissues on the card table, tossing them on Jared’s lap before sitting down and waiting for Jared to dry his eyes and blow his nose half a dozen times. “Okay, mind telling me what happened?”_

_“I’d got a phone message.” Jared’s nose was still plugged, making him sound like he had a cold._

_When Jared gave no further explanation, Jensen reached for the phone sitting on the table in front of them. He slowly dialed Jared’s phone number to access his messages, giving Jared every opportunity to snatch the phone back._

“Put it on speakerphone, you idiot,” Jensen grumbled, not happy that he couldn’t remember this and that himself wasn’t helping him out any.

_“Well that’s a shitty message to leave for some one? Who’s Alex?”_

_“Alex was my first serious fling in high school.”_

_“Was she_ hot?”

_“Alex was a dude.”_

Jensen watched his own eyes widen comically before his features relaxed back into place.

 _“Was_...he _hot?”_

_Jared’s head went back into his hands._

“Is this why you killed yourself?” Katrina whispered.

Jensen realized he had been staring open-mouthed at the scene playing out in front of him. “I wouldn’t. Not over this.” He wished he knew what the phone message had said, but the few clues were enough.

_“I hadn’t talked to him in over five years.” Jared’s voice sounded muffled through his hands._

_“So are you...?”_

_“Yeah. Is that going to be a problem?”_

_“What? No. Of course not. I just had no idea. What about Sandy?”_

_“Beard. I think she knew it, too. Sorry. I totally didn’t want you to find out like this.” He lowered his hands and glanced at Jensen._

_“You didn’t want me to find out at all.” Not a question._

_“Not really,” Jared answered anyway._

_“Who left the message? Do you think that he would really out you like that? He didn’t sound very happy.”_

_“His voice sounded familiar, but I can’t place it. I’m used to weird phone calls, but this reaches a new level of weirdness.”Jared sighed. “Is this going to make things...weird between us now?”_

_“Hell no. Look. We’ll talk about this tomorrow after the shoot when I feel less punchy, ‘k?” He leaned down and gave Jared a big hug. “We’re still good.” He stood and clapped Jared on the shoulder, trying for a more manly gesture. “Now try to get some sleep. We need to be on set in three and a half fucking hours.”_

As Jensen headed toward the door, Jensen quickly moved next to it, so when his past self opened the door, he could hurry through it. He gulped the fresh night air as the others gathered around him.

“That sucks,” Benji said as they all watched the past-Jensen walk away from them.

“Jensen!” 

Jensen spun around, trying to see who called his name. He saw himself, in the process of going up the steps to his own trailer, stop and do the same.

“Who is that?” Abby asked as a big guy came jogging up to the steps.

“Mike. He’s one of the prop guys.”

_“Mind helping me move a few things from the store room?”_

_Jensen’s shoulders slumped. “Can it wait until morning? Which is only,” he made an exaggerated look at his watch, “a couple hours away?”_

_“It will only take a few minutes. We need it first thing.”_

_“Sure. Fine.” He rubbed his eyes, willing himself to stay awake._

Jensen saw the large club of wood too late. And the Jensen whose head it was swung at, didn’t see it at all.

***  
Pain.

“Jensen? Jensen!”

Jensen opened his eyes to see the dusty ground under his nose. He got to his knees. Sandra was rubbing his back and Benji and Abby gave him concerned looks.

“What happened?”

“Guys, hurry up.” Alicia and Albert were standing near Jensen’s trailer, waving urgently.

Jensen ran, not giving a second thought to pushing through the closed door. He heard a voice that sounded an awful lot like his own groan. He looked to the couch to see himself sprawled sideways, Mike pacing angrily in front of him.

_Jensen groaned. His head throbbed so hard that he could barely hear. He sat up, wondering if he had been so tired that he had passed out on his couch. But it only took him a moment to notice Mike._

“He has a gun,” Benji whispered.

_“What do you want?” Jensen started to stand, but then noticed the gun aimed at his chest._

_“You disgust me, Ackles, you know that?”_

_Jensen raised his hands, palms out. “Take it easy, there, man. Put down the gun.”_

_“Not so easy now, is it? So used to playing the hero.”_

_“Please tell me Jared put you up to this.”_

_“I wouldn’t be caught dead talking to that fag.”_

_“What--”_

_“Don’t act like you know nothing him. I saw you in his trailer.”_

_It took Jensen a moment to remember since being knocked unconscious did nothing to help his memory. “He was upset. It was just a hug.” He wondered if it had looked like more than a hug from where Mike viewed the scene._

_Mike stepped forward and Jensen could see his finger flexing over the trigger._

_“Wait! Please! I didn’t do anything!” His eyes darted from side to side, looking for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. “Isn’t this supposed to be the part where you spend 10 minutes telling me about this genius plan of yours and how killing me fits into that picture?”_

_“I’m sorry, Mr. Ackles. Real life ain’t like the movies.” He stepped forward and fired._

Jensen screamed.

Hands on him, holding him down, forcing his hand away from the spot where he was trying to keep his brains from spilling out. Something slapped across his face, startling him to stop thrashing and he realized he was in The White Room. The hands let go of him and he rolled to his side, hands once again clutching his aching head. “Shit, shit, shit!” He yelled the last word, pain making his voice crack.

Mike had killed him.

 

CHAPTER 5

The group sat in a rough circle. No one had spoken since they had returned from Jensen’s flashback. Alicia had been upset and left, Albert following her after an apology and hug to Jensen. Jensen figured they saw more than they were expecting to and he wondered if he would ever see them again. He wondered what the gossip chain was like.

Jensen’s head throbbed, almost drowning out the sound of voices that were still present. He closed his eyes, focusing until he could hear the one voice he recognized. An elbow to his side scattered his concentration.

“Stop reaching,” Abby hissed at him.

He frowned, frustrated, not used to sitting and doing nothing. Sure, there was a lot of waiting around on set, but he always had some sort of gadget in his hand. Or Jared next to him to help make the time pass. 

“Finally,” Benji muttered.

Jensen was about to ask ‘Finally, what?’ when he felt the familiar tingle of day.

Katrina stretched, groaning with pleasure. “Now that I feel like I can move again...” she leaned over and gave Jensen a hug. “I’m so sorry. I hope they catch him.”

“’They’? _‘They’_ seem to think that I killed myself! Damn it...Jared thinks I did it because of what he told me.” He moaned, burying his face in his hands. The shock of finding out his best friend was gay had been overshadowed by the shock that he himself had been murdered. “Why do I have to wait until night to talk to him?” It occurred to him that he hadn’t even asked, just blindly took Abby’s word for it.

“This type of connection is very difficult to maintain. It takes a different type of energy, and when you burn it, you can’t take any in,” Abby told him. 

“And if you screw up, there should only be a short wait until you can recharge. The night is lonely if you drain yourself.” Another comment from Benji.

“So I can do it during the day?”

“Please don’t.” Abby touched his hand. “You’re not ready for that.”

Jensen struggled to his feet. He needed to move. To think. He excused himself from his friends and stepped off alone. 

He kept track of the visions he passed: Inside of a pizza parlor where a gathering was playing pool; a bowling tournament; a birthday party, complete with hats, cake, and tons of kids...He paused to watch the kids running around chasing each other, apparently on a sugar high from a cake that didn’t exist, in a park that didn’t exist, being watched by someone who didn’t exist...It was enough to make Jensen’s head spin.

“Would you like some cake?”

Jensen blinked and turned his head toward a woman who looked to be in her mid 30s. Her hair was tied sharply back from her face, a few stray curls brushing her cheeks from where they had escaped. “Sure.” For lack of a polite way to refuse, he followed her to the table, finding a perfectly cut piece on a paper plate with a fork shoved in his hands. “Which one’s yours?” he asked as he picked up the fork.

“All of them.”

Jensen paused with his fork almost to his lips.

The woman laughed at his expression. “Mine are hopefully still in the land of the living. I used to love throwing birthday parties for them when they were little. You’re Jensen, aren’t you?”

He nodded, mouth full of cake.

“I think you are making a big mistake.” A cloud seemed to be cast over her sunny demeanor, though she still smiled politely at him. 

He swallowed his mouthful. “Pardon?” 

“Revisiting old memories is fine, but visiting with your present is only going to lead to heartache.”

“But Jared can see me...”

“So what? What makes you so special that you get to converse with your old life?”

Jensen was taken aback by the edge to her smiling voice. In the movies, this would be the part where she caused the sky to turn black and thunder would boom in the distance. But no. The air felt warm, and chirping birds, not lightning, dotted her words.

“You will never be able to be a part of that world anymore.”

The plate tipped from Jensen’s fingers, cake barely touched. It disappeared before it could land cake side down on the grass.

“Face the truth!” Her voice followed him as he fled.

***

Still not ready to see his friends, Jensen’s mind drifted to the thing he was trying to forget. He was murdered! Not that he would ever want to swap places with Jared, but why him? Why had Mike killed him? He could have just as easily waited and then snuck into Jared’s trailer. What if Mike planned to kill them both, and Jensen was just the first? But why risk a clean get away by coming back for Jared? But since when do insane guys who shoot people think rationally?

He plopped down on the edge of a grassy plot after making sure no one was close enough to give him any trouble, still stung over his last encounter. He traced his fingers in the seam between grass and white nothing. Before he could devise an idea to try to pry up the sod to see if nothing was under there, a sharp female cry pierced through his head, leaving his ears ringing so bad they felt like they were bleeding. 

All around him everything vanished, turning to white, and he could see people covering their ears and kneeling to the ground in pain, which he was nearly blind from.

“Jensen!”

He heard Abby shriek his name and he struggled to his feet, stumbling in the direction the call had come from. He nearly tripped over the twin girls, curled up on the ground and crying into each other’s arms.

“What the hell just happened?”

Abby just shook her head. She was on the ground, tears running down her face, the rest of the small group in various states of distress. 

“Abby?” Jensen kneeled next to her. “Benji? Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

Benji was the first to look at him, eyes shinning and full of pain. He moved his mouth, but no sound came out. He turned his head away.

Abby sniffed. “Remember when I said burning out was bad?” She made a blind sweeping gesture to the chaos all around them.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” In fact, Jensen felt fine, just a trace of uneasiness left in the pit of his stomach.

“But you remember what it was like to feel pain. We don’t.” She wiped at her tears with the back of her hand.

“Who was it?”

Abby shook her head. 

This huge reaction for someone she don’t even know? And it was effecting _everyone_?

Jensen didn’t know what to do. He sat down and tried to ignore the raw pain he could see on his friends’ faces, tucking his knees up and crossing his arms over them. He waited.

***

Left alone with only his thoughts to keep him company, Jensen thought back to everything that had happened to him since he’d died. Lights that became people. Abby showing him how to visit the past, and how to see his present. Jared. Just like in life, Jared was a huge part of his world in death. But what if that part were cut off? If he could no longer talk to Jared. If Jared slowly forgot about him. Already, the voices in his head were calming, quieting, as one by one people got over his death and stopped mourning his passing. Got over the tragedy of the latest actor-suicide. As annoying as they were, Jensen would miss the voices and the small bit of comfort they gave him.

Not able to stand his own personal hell any longer, he stood, striding away, no longer concerned about finding his way back. 

All around him were people who suffered. Tears down their faces. Hands over their ears. Holding each other for comfort. He saw The Birthday Party Lady, confused kids all around her, the twin girls in her lap as she stroked her hand through their curls. She glanced up to catch Jensen watching and glared at him, like somehow the whole thing was his fault.

Maybe ‘burning out’ wasn’t accidental, but just people who were fed up and wanted to commit post-death suicide. The thought brought a bubble of laughter to his throat. He suppressed it with difficulty, the same way you would if you wanted to laugh at a funeral.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. A spot of color as someone erected up their happy illusion. Then another. And another. One by one, people joined in. But the colors seemed muted, like the difference between a cloudy day and a clear one. Between laughter and silence.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Jensen returned Abby’s greeting, but didn’t turn toward her. “Is everything better now?

“It will be.”

***

“I want to do this one alone,” Jensen announced as soon as he could feel the tingle of day leaving him. “I’m a big boy,” he said to Abby’s doubtful look. “I’ll be careful?” he added when she didn’t speak.

“Fine.” She sighed softly.

“Hey. You can come along next time, okay?”

“Fine,” she repeated.

Jensen wondered if she was mad at him for something, or whatever the version of mad was for the afterlife, but he didn’t want to waste another moment.

“Are you going to tell him?” Benji asked, walking over.

“I’m not sure,” Jensen responded truthfully, settling himself down on the ground. He didn’t want Jared to get hurt if Mike decided to show up, but what good would telling him do? This would have to be something he played by ear. He took a deep breath and released it, closing his eyes, reaching, reaching...

Jensen didn’t pause to enjoy the fresh night air as he hurried for the house. He briefly stopped at the front door before moving quickly past the solid oak. As he jumped to the other side, an unmanly squeak startled him, followed by the sound of glass crashing to the floor.

Jared stared at him from the dining room, frozen, shards of glass and water at his feet.

Waving awkwardly, Jensen approached his gaping friend. “Sorry I didn’t show up last night.” He stepped over the broken glass, not thinking about how it wouldn’t hurt if he trod upon it.

Jared followed him into the kitchen and sat as Jensen motioned him to the table. He didn’t speak and seemed resigned to do whatever Jensen asked of him, sitting with head bowed, not looking up.

“Jared? What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” he mumbled.

Nothin’ was definitely _not_ wrong. Jensen crossed his arms and made an attempt to sit down across from Jared. Attempted because his ass passed right through the chair and brought him thumping to the floor. A flash of remembered pain flared through him before leaving as quickly as it came. But he _did_ get Jared’s attention.

Jared was silent for about five seconds, before his infectious laughter shot out of him and he doubled over against the table, arms across his middle like he was trying to keep his insides inside.

“Asshole,” Jensen grumbled, getting to his feet, brushing invisible dust from the butt of his jeans. “Come on, it wasn’t _that_ funny!”

“The look on your face!” Jared could barely speak.

Jensen crossed his arms and waited for Jared to get a hold of himself. He glared at the chair, which just made Jared start laughing again. 

“It’s good to see you, man,” Jared finally managed to say, the laughter still in his voice. “I _am_ seeing you, right?”

“Haven’t we already been through this? How’s everything going?”

“It goes. Filming is put off indefinitely.”

“What about all the loose ends?”

“You died, man. No one really cares about the show right now.” Jared traced a groove in the table with his thumbnail. “We have a creative bunch. I’m sure something can be worked out.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Guess go back to Texas. Spend some time with my family.”

Jensen felt a twinge of loss. “How’re mine doing?”

“They’re staying at the Holiday Inn.”

“Here?”

Jared nodded. “Your funeral is tomorrow afternoon.”

“Wow.” He swallowed passed the lump in his throat. “Just makes it seem more real.”

“You going to go?”

“Huh?”

“To your funeral.”

“Awkward much? And what if you aren’t the only one who can see me?”

“You haven’t talked to anyone else?”

Jensen shook his head. He felt an odd sort of burning on his hand and wondered if his time was up again, but then he noticed Jared’s gaze and followed it.

“So weird,” Jared said, fingers brushing against Jensen’s hand and disappearing from sight.

Jensen moved his hand outward, closer to Jared. “Can you feel anything?”

Jared closed his eyes. “Ripples,” he finally said. “Like I am in a current, only there’s no water. Tickles.”

Jensen felt warmth, then a soft beat, like the pulsing of a car that has the base turned up all the way. He moved his fingers higher and felt the heartbeat quicken.

“What are you doing?” Jared sounded breathless and, when Jensen looked up, his eyes were still closed.

“Sorry,” Jensen withdrew and reluctantly pulled away, already missing the first bit of warmth he had felt since he’d died. 

Jared coughed, looking embarrassed. 

Jensen searched for something to change the subject with. “I know what happened,” he blurted out, not wanting Jared to think he was responsible a moment longer.

Jared frowned, clearly confused. “What happened when?”

“When I died.”

“You remember?”

“No, I was able to see it.” He waved away Jared’s next question, not wanting to linger on the _how_. “I was murdered.”

“What?” The last of Jared’s blush drained away as his face paled. “Please tell me you’re lying.”

“You would rather I’da killed myself?”

“No, no, no....just..” He spread apart his hands, palms up, in a helpless gesture.

“Yeah, I was pretty shocked, too.”

“Do you know who did it?”

Jensen nodded.

“Well?”

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Jared scoffed.

“Promise. Me.”

“Fine. I promise.”

Jensen wondered if he was going to ‘live’ to regret this. “Mike, the prop guy.”

Jared’s face paled even further. 

“What? Jared, speak to me, man.”

“Mike was there at the set when we all found out. He talked to me for a few minutes. You know how some guys you just get a bad vibe off of?”

“What did he say?”

Jared shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“You’ve got to remember so--”

“I’d just found you with your brains sprayed on the wall! Believe me, I had other things on my mind than some creepy guy from the set.” Jared angrily swiped at a tear that had leaked from the corner of his eye.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.”

“So what do we do now?”

 _Good question._ Jensen shrugged. “I’m really not all sure how this is happening. You’re not supposed to be able to see me, but as long as you can continue to, I would love to keep right on visiting.”

“And if I can’t see you?” 

“Leave a penny lying around and I’ll see what I can do.”

Jared looked confused.

“Don’t tell me you have never seen Ghost? It’s a classic! Swayze! Come on!”

Jared just shook his head, looking amused.

“We,” Jensen caught himself. “You’ll have to see it some time.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to see it with me?”

The hopeful sound in Jared’s voice made Jensen ache. Then he felt a little weakness building behind his knees. “I gotta go.”

Jared stood and acted like he wanted to grab a fistful of Jensen’s shirt to keep him from leaving, if only he could figure out how to do that. Hell, maybe they could reenact _Ghost._ “Was it something I said?”

“No. Doing this takes energy. If I run out, I’m gone. Dead-dead. We can talk more about it tomorrow night.” Jensen just started to drop the link when he heard an awful crash from the living room that sounded like one of the windows being smashed to bits.

 

CHAPTER 6

Sadie and Harley started barking upstairs and pawing at the bedroom door.

“Jared, run! Now!” he added when Jared didn’t move. Jensen hurried out of the kitchen and rounded the doorway just in time to see Mike pull a gun from the back of his pants and run toward the kitchen.

Mike passed through him and the sensation was enough to make Jensen feel ill. He felt no warmth or love. Just a solid pulsing hate that felt like a punch to the gut and brought him to his knees. 

_Abby!_ Jensen screamed into his mind, feeling weak, his energy leaving like water from a wrung sponge.

 _Jensen?_ her mind nudged his.

_Jared’s in trouble. I can’t leave him. Mike..._

He soon felt a rush of energy revive him, awaken his senses enough to hear a crash behind him. _No!_ He scrambled to his feet and spun around, running back into the kitchen. An orange rolled through his foot, its fruit bowl smashed to bits. Jared lay on the floor, Mike bending over him, gun inches from Jared’s face. Jared already had a bruise forming on his temple. His eyes were wide, flashing between the gun and Mike.

“Who are you?” Jared asked.

“Of course you don’t know me.” Mike sounded fed up and a combination of high and drunk. “Nobody knows me!”

“Why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk about this?”

Mike stepped back, but didn’t lower his gun. “Always ignoring me. I tried to be nice to you, but you chose that Ackles guy over me.”

“I didn’t choose anyone...”

“Which was bad enough,” Mike continued as if Jared hadn’t spoken, “but you had to flaunt it in front of everyone.”

“We weren’t ‘flaunting’ anything. We are...were...best friends.”

Jensen stepped to the side so that Jared could see him. Jared looked so relieved that Mike followed his gaze to see what he was looking at. Jensen held his breath as the man turned, his face flushed, sweaty, and eyes wild.

“What do you want?” Jared asked, getting back Mike’s attention and Jensen breathed a sigh of relief.

“I want to be noticed!”

“I notice you, I notice you. I also notice that gun.”

“You’re _supposed_ to notice the gun.”

_Jensen, what are you doing? You can’t stay!_

_I can’t leave him,_ Jensen told Abby.

Mike ran his hands through his hair, knocking free a glass shard that must have been from the window. It hit the floor and Mike jumped, finger tightening on the trigger.

“He’s higher than a kite,” Jensen said. “We have to get you out of here.” Desperate.

Jared’s look said a combination of ‘No shit’ and ‘how the hell do you propose that?’

Jensen could see Mike’s finger twitch up against the trigger. Once. Twice. The tension in the room painful to his ears. 

“Please. You’re not a killer.”

Mike scoffed. “I killed your little bitch of a boyfriend. Oh, wait, you weren’t supposed to know about that,” he added with mock sincerity. 

Jensen felt Abby’s strength wavering, her voice in the back of his head begging for him to return, the tense situation sapping them both of strength.

“I don’t know what to do.” Jensen’s voice shook. He had never felt more useless. Jared was the gentle fun-loving guy on set, who never had a bad thing to say about anyone or anything. He didn’t deserve this.

“Please, let me go. You can start over somewhere. I won’t tell anyone.”

Mike giggled. Actually giggled. “Sorry.”

Jensen saw something change in Mike’s eyes and his arm with the gun straightened, finger starting to pull back on the trigger...

“NO!” Jensen screamed, running toward Jared, snapping his ties with Abby, feeling himself go weak at the loss of energy feeding into him. A loud shot. Another. Pain. A bright burst of color. Nothing.

***

Jensen didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to see the place that he had unknowingly dragged Jared to. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed to the floor, pounding his fist against it. He held on to the philosophy that a cat of his used to have, ‘If I can’t see it, then it must not exist.’

A dog yipped, scattering Jensen’s thoughts and he opened his eyes, blinking the floor into focus. The kitchen floor. He blinked at the tiles under his hands and knees, completely confused. He looked to his left and saw a pool of blood. Heart in his throat, he looked further to see Mike’s crumpled body, eyes wide open, staring at nothing.

A hand touched Jensen’s back and he jumped, heart pounding somewhere in the vicinity of his throat.

“Jensen?”

Jensen froze. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A shiver ran down his spine when the hand moved. It inched to his shoulder before gripping painfully and spinning him around. He lost his balance and found himself almost nose to nose with Jared. Jared! “Jared?”

Jared’s eyes were wide, face looking just as shocked as Jensen imagined his must look. 

“Wait.” Jensen swallowed, finding it difficult to speak. “What just happened? Am I alive, or are you dead?”

“I don’t know.” Jared breathed the words out. His hand trembled as he moved it to Jensen’s cheek.

“Are you going to kiss me?” He had meant to sound sarcastic, but his voice sounded breathless and needy.

Jared took it as an invitation, nipping Jensen’s surprised lips, laughing at the sharp intake of breath. He pulled Jensen tight for a hug.“Huh, Mike’s dead,” Jared said over Jensen’s shoulder, like he didn’t find the dead guy, surrounded in a pool of his own blood, strange at all.

Lips against his ear. Against his cheek. Pressed to his. “Welcome home.”

_Abby, if you can hear me, I won’t forget about you. Thank you._

 

**Alternate ending (Skip if you like the happy)**

The shot rang loud, echoing in his ears. Pain blinded him and he curled into himself, closing his eyes tightly, trying to block it out. The sound faded, the silence hurting just as much as the sound of the shot had.

Confused and wary, Jensen opened his eyes. To nothing. His heart caught in his throat. Had he failed?

“Jensen?”

“Jared?” Jensen spun around and a flicker of orange caught his eye.


End file.
